7 Things
by ournoisyhearts
Summary: The seven things Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman use to help each other get over the ones they can't have. Puckleberry.
1. Prologue

"Don't move. No, stop, are you even listening? I said, _don't move._"

Rachel Berry's hand froze mid air, halfway into her locker, attempting to reach her science book. She couldn't see who was standing behind her, but she recognized the thick, husky voice all too well. She felt his body turn away from her and knew by his heavy breathing that he was angry, obviously about to cause someone a lot of pain. _For her._

"Noah, don't," she whispered, spinning around and carefully latching her tiny hand onto his wrist. His breathing quieted slightly, but she knew based on the fact that Finn Hudson was standing in front of them, grape slushie in hand that there was no way she could stop what was about to happen.

"I swear to god, Hudson, if you throw that slushie you will not live to see tomorrow," Noah Puckerman threatened in a low voice. Rachel could feel his arm twitching under her grasp, itching to be smashed against Finn's face. Rachel carefully stepped sideways, safely behind the boy's towering figure. She couldn't see the other football player from her position, but she could tell that he had no intention of taking back what was about to be done.

"Dude, I have to. For Quinn," Finn hissed, glancing back and forth between his so-called friends and the rest of the people in the hallway. It was practically silent, the only sounds the harsh words between the two.

"Oh, that's right, baby daddy's gotta protect his young," Puck replied, nostrils flaring. Finn clutched the big red cup tighter in his palm, standing up on his tip toes slightly to get a better view of Rachel.

"Rach, I think you should go," he murmured, his eyes silently pleading with hers. Rachel squeezed Puck's wrist tighter, stepping out from her defensive position.

"If you slushie him, you slushie me too," she said firmly, although on the inside all she could think was, _please don't do it, please don't do it._

Finn growled slightly and glared back over at Puck, who seemed to have calmed down slightly. Rachel could feel the undeniable tension between the two, radiating between them like some sort of invisible energy, just waiting to be broken. She took a deep breath and let go of Puck's wrist, smoothing down her plaid skirt before taking a brave step between the two much larger students.

"You'll both get suspended. No more glee, no more football. You don't want to do this," she said, her voice shaking. She placed a palm against Finn's chest and her other against Puck's, causing both of them to stagger backwards. Finn's knuckles, which had turned white from gripping the slushie so tightly, finally started to return to their normal beige tone. Puck's reddened face drained slightly as he slowly stepped back farther, staring straight at Finn.

"She's right, dude. You're not even worth it," he mumbled. Rachel sighed in relief, glad that whatever fight was about to break out had been stopped.

Finn narrowed his eyes at his friend before looking over at Rachel, shaking his head. He pushed past Puck with a firm nudge in the shoulder and stomped off down the hall, the melted drink in his hand sloshing over the rim of the plastic cup and dripping onto the floor. Rachel waited until he was far around the corner to finally take a glance at Puck.

He was leaning against the lockers, his expression flat and his eyes closed. Rachel gently laid her hand on his arm, causing his head to jerk forward and his eyes to gaze down at her.

"What?" He demanded, still slightly shaken from the earlier event.

"Thank you for trying to protect me, Noah, but I'd appreciate it if you tried harder to control your temper next time," she said quietly, soft brown eyes gazing up into his.

"Shi- I mean, sorry. Yeah. Next time I won't be as physical," he said slowly, looking away. Rachel smiled softly and pulled on his arm, forcing him away from the lockers.

"Better get going, we don't want to be late for Glee!" She squeaked, the forceful and high-headed Rachel he was used to returning at once. He groaned as she started to pull him down the hallway, eventually letting go because she couldn't handle that much weight. She skipped off ahead of him, her lean, golden legs stretching ahead of him.

_Damn those legs,_ he cursed, following quickly after her.

xXx

**Well, that couldn't have been anymore horrible. I apologize for such an awful prologue. Next chapter will be better, I promise. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 1

_Two Weeks Earlier_

Noah Puckerman stared at the chalkboard in front of him, the numbers and equations melting together like goo in his mind. The white marks seemed to blend together into a huge blob, making it impossible for him to even begin to understand what the writing was.

"Mr. Shue?"

"Yes, Puck?"

"I really appreciate you doing this for me and all, but…I thought you taught Spanish?"

The young teacher glanced up from his desk, setting down the stack of papers he had been grading. With sectionals right around the corner, the second he had heard that Puck was failing Algebra II (failing a class meant he was on probation from football AND glee club), he had jumped up and offered to tutor him. Little did he know it was going to be _this_ difficult.

"Look, Puck," Mr. Shuester finally replied, coming out from behind his desk and walking over to the boy, who had his textbook open to a random page and a few pieces of crumpled scratch paper scattered across his desk, "your teacher says you're failing. If you fail, you'll get kicked out of gl- I mean, off the football team." He explained slowly. Puck glanced up at him, his arms thrown over the back of his chair and a dull look on his face. Mr. Shuester sighed and rubbed his hand over his face, leaning down to the boy's level.

"Puck," he repeated slowly, "you won't _graduate_ sophomore year."

The boy's head shot up, his eyes widening.

"What the fuck are you talking about?! I HAVE to graduate, Mr. Shue!" He cried frantically. The teacher grimaced and put a hand on the Puck's shoulder.

"Language," he stated simply, removing his hand and walking over to the blackboard. "Okay. You obviously care somewhat about your grades, so I might as well try and get some of this through to you," he began, pointing to an expression on the bored. "Now, what does _x _equal?"

Puck stared at the numbers and variables on the bored, squinting hard, as if it might help him figure out the answer. "Uh…six?"

Mr. Shue fought back a groan and clapped his hands together. "It's actually fourteen. But, um, good try," he muttered through a fake smile.

Puck's face fell and he put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. "I know you're just trying to help, but let's be honest Mr. Shue. I'm an idiot."

Mr. Shuester clapped his hands together again, harder, to keep himself from hitting his own head. _Stay focused,_ he told himself, mustering up the words, "You're not an idiot."

Puck looked up and stared at the older man, his face blank. "Don't lie to me, Mr. Shue. I know I'm not the sharpest tool in the house. Or whatever that expression is."

The teacher grimaced. _It's box, Puck. Sharpest tool in the BOX,_ he wanted to yell, but knew this would only discourage the boy further. "Well, uh, how about we just stop for today. I'll help you out some more tomorrow."

Puck slammed his book shut and gathered his papers, stuffing them into his torn backpack and zipping up. It was obvious the man trying to help him was exasperated- his face had paled and his wide eyes were frantic, trying to come up with a way to let him off easy. He was used to his teachers giving up on him. Noah Puckerman played football. He didn't ace quizzes and write amazing papers on stupid plays like _Hamlet._ He was an athlete. And everyone knows that athletes aren't supposed to be smart.

"Goodnight, Mr. Shue," he called over his shoulder as he walked out of the classroom. The numbers were still melting and shriveling up inside of his brain, clouding his thoughts. He could hardly see straight. Expressions like _4x-8y _and _8(93-x)-[-(8y)] _kept streaming across his line of vision, blurring his sight. He smacked himself on the head a couple of times but it only made the dizziness worse. Groaning, he shoved open the front door of the school and staggered over to his truck, unlocking it and climbing in. He threw his backpack into the passenger seat and turned the keys into the ignition, the engine roaring to life. The numbers were finally starting to subside as he pulled out of the school parking lot, but he couldn't help thinking about what Mr. Shue had said. "_You're not an idiot."_

_Must be numberophobia, if there is such a thing, _Puck decided, returning his gaze to the road.

xXx

"Puck, I've got great news," Mr. Shuester came up beside the teenager the next morning, clapping a hand on his back. "I found you a tutor."

Puck froze mid-step and snapped his head around to face the teacher. "_What?!"_

The older man's grin widened, practically swallowing his whole face. "This way you won't get kicked out of gl- the football team! You can keep playing!" He stammered quickly, his pace increasing as they turned into his classroom. "She's perfect. Passed Algebra II last year with nothing lower than an A minus."

The minute Puck heard the word 'she' he glanced around, a smirk dancing across his lips. "Wait, so my new tutor is a…girl?"

Mr. Shue nodded enthusiastically. "She'll help you pass this class no problem. I guarantee it."

Puck could already feel himself shiver anticipation, waiting to see who his hot new tutor was going to be. Maybe the French exchange student from his world history class? Or maybe even better, the hot brunette from literature? His leg began twitching as he look back at Mr. Shuester, smiling.

"So, who is she?"

Mr. Shuester opened his mouth to reply when the classroom door burst open a high voice came from behind them.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Mr. Shuester! Dad and Daddy had to-" Puck spun around as the voice cut off in disbelief.

"Oh, you have _got _to be kidding me."

Mr. Shuester, who was either completely oblivious to the tension now present in the room, or was just pretending not to acknowledge it, put his arms around his two students, smiling cheekily.

"This is going to be perfect! Rachel, you can help Puck with his math and even with his singing, and maybe who knows, you guys can become friends!" He cried happily. Puck glanced over at Rachel, then back at his teacher.

"Mr. Shue, we already are friends. Kinda…" Puck trailed off, flashing back to the discussion the two students had had on the bleachers mere weeks ago.

"Yes, Mr. Shue. Besides, I don't feel that I am a suitable…match to help Noah out with his computing abilities," Rachel said firmly, glaring behind the teacher's back over to the taller boy. Puck frowned and slipped out from under Mr. Shuester's arm, narrowing his eyes.

"You didn't tell her she was going to be tutoring me, did you?" He demanded. Mr. Shuester's face fell and he sighed deeply, running a hand through his short curly hair.

"I'm sorry, I should've told you both who I'd 'assigned' you to. I knew that if I did, you'd back out, and we can't risk losing either of you with sectionals coming up," he said grimly.

"So this wasn't about me getting kicked off the team?" Puck asked quietly.

"I'm..afraid not, Puck," the teacher replied quietly.

Meanwhile, Rachel, who was still trying to process everything, glanced over at both men. "If it's going to save us from losing sectionals, I'll do it," she decided, avoiding Puck's burning gaze. "Although I do not have the utmost faith in Noah's IQ points, I will take this one for the team." Her gaze shot over to the larger boy, staring straight at him. "As in _glee club,_ not your sweaty little friends on that disgusting, overgrown field."

Puck's mouth fell open as he glanced back over at Mr. Shue. "But, Mr. Shue, I'm sure I can find someone else-"

Mr. Shuester shook his head. "Rachel's agreed, and I think she could really help you. Get those grades up, okay?" He said finally, smiling at the two students. "Do glee club proud."

Both of them turned and watched their teacher walk out of the classroom, refusing to look at each other.

"What's in it for you?" Puck grunted, still staring at the empty doorway.

Rachel turned to the larger athlete, slightly intimidated by his towering frame. "He promised me the solo at sectionals."

Puck scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Figures."

xXx

**Before I write an author's note, I'd like to make some things clear:**

**I am only thirteen. My vocabulary might not be that well developed, I might have some things from the show mixed up (for example, I called Finn 'man-hands' when that is actually Quinn's nickname for Rachel. I apologize), and some of my storylines might not be that great. Forgive me, please. I'm really trying to make this story good, so I'd appreciate all the constructive criticism I can get, especially if I have something politically incorrect, etc. So feel free in your review to give me any tips, pointers, or anything from the show I may have mixed up.**

**Now for my note, I don't have much to say, except thank you for the amazing feedback on the prologue. I wasn't exepecting so many reviews and alerts, so thank you very much!**

**Next chapter will hopefully be the start of the seven things. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Let's face it. I don't own this. I wish I owned Mark Salling, but sadly that's not going to happen.**

xXx

"Rachel agreed to tutor _you?"_ Finn cried in disbelief, his eyes boring into Puck's dark hazel ones. All he could do was shrug and clamp his hand down onto his sandwich, bringing it to his lips and shoving half the thing into his mouth. Finn became frantic, tossing his hands this way and that, his lips moving as if he were saying something, but all the other boy heard wasthe sound of himself chewing. He focused on the grinding of his teeth together, the taste of the cold, tasteless turkey as it slid down his throat, and the amusement in the back of his mind that Finn might actually be _jealous._

"Damn, dude. Don't get your panties in a twist. Shue bribed her into it," Puck explained, taking another monster sized bite of his sandwich. Finn clenched his teeth together and pursed his lips, his gaze going from surprised to angry in seconds.

"Just..don't try anything with her. Rachel's NICE, Puck. Something you're probably not used to," Finn warned, staring his friend now. "I mean it."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Puck's mind turned elsewhere at the thought of him trying _anything_ with Rachel Berry. "The world could be ending and the whole fucking existence of mankind could rest in my hands and I **still** wouldn't do Rachel Berry."

Finn's expression twisted into one of disgust. "Is that some kind of sick insult?"

"Yup," Puck deadpanned, swallowing the remnants of his sandwich. He then reached for Finn's bag of potato chips and tore it open, stuffing half a dozen of the crisp chunks into his mouth. The other football player shook his head in disappointment and ripped the bag away from his friend.

"Those are my chips," he shot at Puck, crushing the bag into his hands, "and besides, you DID date Rachel. Remember?"

Puck's eyebrows scrunched together as he remembered the few days him and Berry were, bleh, _together._ He had ditched football, sang a solo and even taken a slushie to the face all for her. _Love makes you do some crazy shit,_ he thought bitterly. _Wait. LOVE? Did I just say that I loved Rachel Berry? Fuck, man, get it together._

"Yeah, I remember," was all he said in reply, his mind swimming. Finn sighed in exasperation and stood up, the crumpled bag of chips still in hand.

"Trust me, Puck. You _don't _want to try anything. Okay?" He mumbled, giving Puck one last look before walking away. He watched Finn catch up to Quinn just outside the cafeteria doors, a smile appearing on his friend's face. Quinn's smile back looked slightly forced, Puck noted, as she met her boyfriend's lips in a kiss. Puck grunted and turned away, unable to watch any longer. That was his kid Quinn Fabray was carrying, _his kid,_ and she didn't even give a shit. Well, what more could he expect from the girl he'd knocked up? He knew that he probably wasn't Quinn's favorite person in the world, but still. He would try to be a good dad. He really would. If only she'd let him.

xXx

By the time school ended and Puck waltzed into the library at exactly 3:04, he was more than ready to go home. Sadly, he was stuck solving for 'x' with Rachel fucking Berry, of all people. As he sauntered in and took a seat at the wooden table across from her, he noticed that her expression looked surprisingly angry. Puck groaned and rolled his eyes, dumping the contents of his backpack onto the table.

"What did I do?" He asked, digging through the pile for his Algebra textbook.

"I told you three o'clock on the dot. It is now exactly," she glanced over at the analog clock on the wall and frowned, "three oh seven."

"Oh my. Spare me," Puck said flatly as he finally found his book. He slid it out of the way and started scooping the rest of his belongings back into his bag, stopping when he spotted a pencil. Tossing that next to his Algebra book, he put away the rest of his things and deposited his backpack onto the ground next to him.

"Do you take anything seriously?" Rachel demanded. Puck shrugged and leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head.

"Occasionally," he replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Rachel let out an exasperated huff and pushed his textbook over to him.

"Let's just get this over with. Now, what section is your class on?"

Puck flipped to the section he was pretty sure the teacher had last taught about and pushed the book back to Rachel. She took one glance at the page and pushed it back to him.

"Read it."

"_What?"_

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the title of the lesson. "READ IT. You know, when you pronounce the words in your head?"

Puck narrowed his eyes. "I know what 'reading' is, Berry. What I want to know is how reading about polynomials is going to help me understand this."

"Reading the section is the first step," Rachel replied calmly. Puck scoffed.

"You're not serious," he moaned, but judging at the look on Rachel's face, she was pretty damn serious. "Ugh, fine."

Rachel waited patiently as Puck skimmed over the lesson, reading mostly just the definitions and things with the key term signs next to them. When he finished, Rachel folded her hands together in front of her.

"You didn't read it all," she stated. Puck leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, I did," he shot back. A smug smile appeared on Rachel's lips.

"I would disagree again but unlike you, I don't act like a child. So we'll just leave at the fact that you supposedly read it."

Puck furrowed his eyebrows but didn't fight back. "What now?"

Rachel tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and slid it across the table to him. "Now, we work."

Puck looked up at her to check if she was kidding, but her neutral expression didn't falter. He hesitantly took the piece of paper and grabbed his pencil before glancing back up at her.

"Do that problem," she commanded, pointing at the book. Puck took one look at the numbers and variables and the familiar blank feeling in his brain slowly crept back.

"I…can't." He mumbled. Rachel looked straight at him.

"And why is that?" She asked. Puck looked down at his paper before meeting her piercing gaze.

"I don't know how."

He was expecting her to yell, or jump up and storm out of the room, or at least let out one of those little sighs again. Instead, she grinned and stood up.

"Excellent. We'll meet again tomorrow, same time, same place," she said chirpily, pulling up the handle on her roller bag.

"Wait, what? You're joking. That's it?"

Rachel glanced at him quizzically and nodded. "Well, yes, for today it is."

As she walked out of the library, roller bag in tow, Puck rubbed his face anxiously with his hands. He was in _way_ over his head.

**xXx**

**Before I get into my author's note, I'd just like to warn you that I am pretty much the slowest updater in the entire world. I'm sorry for the long wait, but that's just how I am. Lazy :P**

**This story takes place sometime after 'Mash-Up.' So that means Finn still doesn't know the baby is Puck's. Just had to make sure I cleared that up.**

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and constructive criticism last chapter! One error that someone pointed out was the saying goes, "sharpest tool in the shed." I put box. Sorry about that. Again, more pointers and tips are appreciated for this chapter. Every little thing helps me improve my writing!**

**Short chapter also. Most of my chapters are rather short (again, a factor of my laziness.) I apologize for that. But reviews are still greatly appreciated :D And the 7 Things should start up soon! ;)**


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